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Gazpacho: Molok

Norwegian art-rockers plot universal destruction.

Nope, not figuratively – they literally have it planned. At the end of Molok, a glitchy code could technically play havoc with our CD software and destroy the universe. Their theory is backed by science and everything. Yeah, science.

Continuing their experimental, gleefully non-radio-friendly tradition, Gazpacho have devised a concept album so weird and complicated as to include God, child sacrifice and Stonehenge. And lethal coding.

So try to believe us when we say there are strong, melodic songs amid all that what-the-fuckery. Creative driver Thomas Andersen writes jingles by day, which has always steered Gazpacho’s other-worldly matter in a warm, engaging direction.

A Pandora’s box of celestial strings, twinkly bits, modern-classical keyboard jabs and sinister electronics make a richly enigmatic backdrop. Creepy distortion evokes a darker, Scandinavian Radiohead in the likes of Know Your Time, Bela Kiss introduces a bouncy Balkan folk jig, while plaintive piano and Floydian guitar sustains a tangible, human rocker core.

Strange, beautiful music from fervently individual minds. Approach with caution.